


Waiting Pays Off

by ChamirianBels



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 18:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19382593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChamirianBels/pseuds/ChamirianBels
Summary: Arthur has known Alfred since they were kids. He's like an older brother for the other but over time his feelings changed from brotherly love to something more. He confessed once while they were still on the college campus and Alfred didn't take it well. Arthur still waits on the sidelines for Alfred, though, always there for support even if Alfred can't love him back.One-Shot. Might turn into a two-shot in the future. Debatable.





	Waiting Pays Off

            The cool winter wind blows across the campus grounds, chilling each fool who dare walks outside. It swirls and swoops by every person, bringing along with it snowflakes that have yet to land. The cold powder already on the ground merely cascades across the slick dunes.

            Arthur shivers as he walks gingerly across the cemented pathways linking each building together. He pulls his muffler over his mouth and nose for some protection knowing it’s in vain but better than nothing. Stuffing his hands in his coat, he rushes as carefully as he can from the parking lot toward the physical education building. He didn’t want to be too late to the home game playing inside. He knows that it must have already started but it’s fine. As long as he gets an okay seat he won’t complain.

            He soon enters the building with a few other people and shakes off the snow on him. Sighing in slight relief, he welcomes the warmth against his skin before heading in the direction of the hockey game. Arthur quickly steps into the room, eyes on the ice rink as the game goes on. He watches the players for a moment, eyes scanning for the familiar numbers he knows. He finds 7 benched for now and 1 on the rink chasing the puck. With a small smirk, he descends the stairs and takes an open seat for himself.

            Not a minute after he takes a seat, someone stands at his side. “Mind if we sit with you, Arthur?”

            The Briton glances up and sees one of his closest friends along with a headache personified. “I guess,” he mumbles while making room for them to sit with him. “I understand why Gilbert is here but what brings you, Lovino?”

            “I had nothing better to do.” The Italian shrugs. “That and I’m here supporting Matthew with this idiot here.”

            “He’s been benched! That’s ridiculous!” Gilbert scowls as his eyes land on number 7, Matthew Williams. “Dammit, and here I wanted to see the shyly reserved guy smash other people into the glass.”

            Arthur snorts as he covers a growing smirk. He’s amused by the comment because he once thought the same way when he heard Matthew was also into hockey. “They have Alfred on the rink. They most likely will switch the brothers out soon. It’s a pattern they do so they don’t have the near twins on at the same time.”

            “Why not?” Gilbert gazes at Arthur with a furrow in his brow. “They do realize they’re part of the top three in this school when it comes to hockey, right?”

            “Of course they do. They just like playing fair with little advantages.”

            “And how do you know that, bushy brow?” Lovino slouches in his chair, comfortable with not needing to speak. He’ll pipe up when he wishes, though, at any chance to playfully belittle someone. “There’s no way you have an in with the coaches and team. Matthew doesn’t squeal like certain dipsticks.”

            Gilbert exclaims a “hey!” as Lovino motions with his head who he’s talking about. Arthur chuckles, shaking his own head at his friend’s antics. “I do have my ways.”

            “Don’t tell me about your creatures of imagination because I know that’s utter bull.” Lovino rolls his eyes.

            “Then I’m not telling you how I know.” Arthur childishly crosses his arms.

            A loud  _thwum_ reverberates against the glass in front of the trio. The person smacked into the glass was Alfred F. Jones, number 1 on the ice. He loses his balance for a second before rushing back off into the fray, hungry for revenge. Arthur worries his lip, concerned about how hard that hit was. Just like American Football, Hockey has a tendency to cause multiple kinds of wounds on the players. Whether it’s a concussion or broken bones, anything is possible with how violent the sports can be. Even Rugby is like that. It may be a thrill for some but certain onlookers can’t help worrying over their loved ones.

            “Come on, Al! Get him back for that one!” Gilbert shouts with his hands cupping his mouth.

            Lovino rolls his eyes, mumbling comments to himself about stupid people and unentertaining sports. Arthur snorts knowing full well that the Italian is interested in violent sports. He denies it strongly but there’s a reason he comes to these more than just to support friends. Arthur comes for the support but also for a personal reason of his own.

            Alfred is able to smash the player who had done the same to him minutes ago. Everyone cheering for the home team, or specifically Alfred, screams in approval. Gilbert shouts his own praise, fists shooting in the air from excitement. Lovino even comments with his own cheer, a grin on his face. Arthur merely smiles, proud of the number 1 player he admires.

            The game runs on, players switching now and then to give some a quick rest while the others pump their blood into a rush. Everyone in the stands cheer for their teams, sending encouragement to the players so they can do amazing. Matthew soon takes Alfred’s position after Alfred is slammed once more against the glass. When he sits on the bench, he takes off his helmet, scowl clearer to see if anyone pays him attention. Arthur fidgets, hoping that the other blond isn’t too badly injured from the attacks.

            Even though the game presses on, Arthur’s sole focus is on Alfred. He watches as the America ruffles his hair up in annoyance, shaking the sweat out of the strands temporarily since more will come when he’s out on the ice again. Arthur wonders what could be going through his mind. Usually the young man is jovial, smiling and up for pranks any given day. On game days he’s an entirely different person. Serious, doesn’t crack too big of a smile, focused, determined. As much as he claims to be a hero, Alfred is more of a sore loser than anything. Arthur’s known this about the younger man since he first acquainted with Alfred.

            The two of them went to the same school district. They have a four year difference in age but knew each other as neighbors across the street. Alfred grew up with his brother Matthew and loving parents in a two story house that yells “Suburban Family.” Arthur was raised across the street by his three aunts in a slightly run down but still miraculously standing house. The way they lived was drastically different. That’s why Arthur was always bitter while Alfred was always laughing.

            The Briton had always admired Alfred, how he can smile through the toughest things and be so positive. He made it a point to be friends with the kid and protect him like a big brother would. It didn’t last as Alfred felt he was better off as an independent child. He could fight his own battles. Arthur found out that the kid definitely knew how to take care of himself. He still stood by at the side, always there for support, though. He’s not sure if Alfred notices or he appreciates it but Arthur won’t ever stop being there for the American.

            “Hey, you think Alfred’s been hurt?”

            Gilbert’s question snaps Arthur out of his thoughts as he locks on said American. There’s a definite flinch with each second step Alfred takes on his left leg. Alfred tries masking his pain, forcing himself to skate normally without wincing. To any other person’s eye, he would seem fine. To those who know what to look for or know him well enough, they can see through the charade. Arthur bites his bottom lip, uncrossing his arms so he can clench the free armrest to his right. He can only hope it’s nothing serious.

            Arthur watches Alfred straight to the end of the game. Home won by a small margin, a victory nonetheless, and everyone supporting the team cheers. The MVPs of this game are the same, Alfred and Matthew. Each player roughs the two up in excitement. Arthur smiles as he looks on before standing up.

            “What’s the occasion for tonight, chaps?” He asks the two who follow suit. They start ascending the steps back to the lobby area. “Usually you both come to these games only if you have something planned.”

            “Can never get anything past you, jerk-face.” Lovino shakes his head with a small laugh.

            “We’re taking Mattie out on a date,” Gilbert states as he puffs out his chest.

            “An  _outing_. It’s a fucking outing.” The Italian rolls his eyes. “If you want to take him on a date, do it without a third wheel.”

            Arthur laughs slightly, knowing Gilbert’s antics well enough to understand the man is kidding around. “I hope the lot of you enjoy yourselves.” He then realizes that they didn’t mention Alfred. “Not taking Alfred this time around?”

            “Nah.” Gilbert shrugs. “Guy said he’s too busy tonight with something or another. Would take a rain check.”

            The Brit nods as he processes that. “Shall we wait for them near the locker room then?”

            “I’m going to the car. Fuck standing for minutes on end.” Lovi waves at the two as he leaves the building.

            “We’ll try not to keep you waiting forever!” Gilbert laughs, walking the opposite direction. Arthur follows along. “So, you gonna try and occupy Alfred’s time?” Gilbert stuffs his hands in his pockets, joking demeanor suddenly switching. He eyes the ashen blond walking beside him. “I know you’ve been yearning to hang out with him more often. What’s stopping you?”

            “The chap’s busy most days. I wouldn’t want to bother him.” Arthur shades his eyes with his bangs, not wanting Gilbert to see the truth in his eyes. “If he wishes to be with me again, he’ll call or text me. He hasn’t deleted my number that I know of, so I believe we’re still on good ground.”

            “He didn’t take it well at all, huh.” It’s more of a statement but Arthur nods anyway. “He’s just confused. I mean, the guy grew up with you as an older brother.”

            “I understand that. It’s just, I can’t help how my feelings and emotions change.”

            “No one can.” The self-proclaimed Prussian nods, humming with a silent afterthought. “He’s glad that you’re not pushing him, though. That would’ve ruined it entirely for him.”

            “Even if it is known that men usually take what they please, I know enough to wait and take my time. Nothing good comes out of something forced.”

            “Amen.” Gilbert immediately smiles as he notices Matthew exiting the locker room. “Mattie!”

            The pale blond man jerks his head towards the others. He smiles a little, refocusing on someone else with him. His brother Alfred limps out with him, face stoic and unflinching. It’s evident he’s hurt badly but knowing the man, he will refuse going to the hospital. Arthur feels the urge to rush over and help but stays back.

            Gilbert’s the one to go over instead. “Dude, were you hit that hard?”

            “Nah, I’m fine. Just need some meds and sleep it off for a few days. I’ll be right as rain after that.” Al forcefully smiles so everyone is reassured. Arthur’s the only one who can tell he’s faking it. “I got them just as badly so no worries.” He laughs.

            “That’s our Alfred. Just as scary as that stupid Russian.” Gilbert offers a hand but Alfred refuses his help. “Anyway, I’m here for you tonight, Mattie.”

            “Right. Our usual weekly outing.” Matthew smiles weakly at Alfred, concern written all over his face. “Will you be okay?”

            Alfred nods. “I’ll be fine.” His eyes land on the quiet Brit in the group. “I have Artie to lean on. You go have fun.”

            Matthew nods, letting the other go before following Gilbert. He nods to Arthur, saying a quick hello and goodbye as politely as he can, then rounds the corner with the platinum blond ahead of him. Alfred stands tall, eyes still on Arthur. Arthur is unable to look at the other in this moment though he knows he should. He breathes in and smiles at the hockey player. Alfred doesn’t smile back.

            “Superb game today,” Arthur starts. “It’s always a blast when you are on the ice.”

            “So I’ve been told by my own fan-girls.” Alfred steps forward, walking past the other with a small limp. “You coming or do you wanna keep brown nosing me?”

            With a sigh, Arthur follows Alfred through the halls until they reach the outside. They each stop so they can pull on their coats and accessories for warmth. After they bundle up, they head over to Arthur’s van. With the small limp, Alfred finds it slightly difficult to walk across the parking lot without slipping a little. Arthur comes to his side, offering to be a crutch. As much as the wheat-blond seems to loathe the action, he doesn’t refuse. The Briton happily takes Alfred’s weight and helps him to his van.

            “You can lie in the back, if you wish.”

            “As much as that sounds amazing, I’m sitting shotgun.”

            “Fair enough.”

            This isn’t planned for either of them. Arthur wasn’t expecting Alfred coming along with him but he won’t reject any time with him. It’s been too long since they properly hung out with each other. Then again, Alfred will most likely crash on one of beds and not associate with Arthur. That dampens the ashen blond’s mood but he keeps smiling.

            After assisting Alfred to the passenger door, Arthur goes around and sits in the driver seat. “I’m dropping you off home?” He asks as he buckles in. The answer will most likely be yes but he still asks to reaffirm.

            Surprisingly, Alfred doesn’t answer instantly with the expected reply. Instead, he hums for a moment, gazing outside the door window. “Actually, let’s go to your place.”

            Arthur blinks. “Are you sure?”

            Alfred nods. “I heard you acquired the deed to an old family home in the country not far from here.” He glances at the Brit, no smile on his face but curiosity swimming in his eyes. “I’d like to see it for myself.”

            “Okay.” Arthur slowly turns forward, smile brightening just a tad. “Sure. Let’s go then.” He starts the engine and off they go.

            The ride in the van is silent save for the purr of the engine and the whirr of the tires against the asphalt. Alfred stares out the window, mind wandering. Arthur keeps his eyes on the road, nervous as he’s never had a guest at his home before. Not yet. It’s still a mess as he moved into the place the beginning of this semester. Being a neat freak when any guests come over now, Arthur prays that Alfred doesn’t mind the disarray that is his home.

            Thirty minutes out from the college and Arthur finally turns down a long driveway. True to the rumor mill that seems to be spreading the fact he owns a home, it’s in the country. The driveway is half a mile long and circles around a small fountain. This house is of a Victorian style on the outside, wrap around porch from the front to the left side of the house. The right side is where the garage stands. Small hedges decorate the front and hooks hang from the ceiling of the porch where flower pots would hang. The house itself is a pale blue with indigo trimming. Arthur plans to maybe repaint the outside with greener colors but is still on the fence about it. Alfred takes the whole place in as they drive toward the house

            Arthur maneuvers into the extended garage. It isn’t connected to the house but does have stairs go into the house at the side. He parks and gets out, rushing to the other side expecting that Alfred may need his help again. Alfred merely climbs out and limps to the side door, waiting as Arthur closes the garage by the electric button before he exits with him. They walk to the side door of the house and enter after Arthur unlocks it. The kitchen is the first location they arrive in from the side entrance.

            Alfred scans the room, approving the wooden inside of the kitchen and dining room. “Not bad,” he mumbles.

            “Do excuse the mess,” Arthur says as he picks up as much garbage as he can. “I still haven’t unpacked everything, and take outs are all I’ve been eating for dinner when I can’t cook.”

            “Like you could cook.” Alfred chuckles a little with a small smirk. “So, where is everything?”

            Arthur instantly begins a tour of the house from the first floor. “Here is the kitchen combined dining room. Through those doors is a small den that I’ll turn into a living room,” he points to an office like room filled with old gun cabinets and boxes. “Through there you go from the den into a small hall that connects to a bathroom. From the hall near the kitchen, the stairs go to the second floor while the rest of the hall goes to a bedroom. That’s where I’ve settled in. Upstairs are a bunch of guest rooms and vacant slots I have yet to decide what to do with. I could always show you tomorrow how everything looks.”

            “Sure.” Alfred nods as he lumbers towards the hallway that goes toward Arthur’s room. “I’m sleeping down here, okay?”

            “Of course!”

            Arthur hurries along, moving in front of Alfred so he can better guide them. They reach the end of the hall and turn towards the only door there that’s pushed into the wall. On the door are several file holders each with a label. One contains a wired 5 subject notebook that seems to be homework left to do. Arthur takes the notebook out and opens the door.

            Immediately in front of them, a few inches away from the door so no collisions will happen, is a tall wooden wall with many gaps patterned along the length of it. The gaps form a way to climb the wall if one wishes to while at the very end is a small doorway to the other side of the wall. Alfred raises an eyebrow as he glances up. The ceiling is far above them. He wonders what could possibly be on the top of this room if there is a space on the second floor for it. His eyes wander, noticing a section in the corner that imprints a set of small stairs. That answers his question about a room above but still wonders what could go above this large bedroom.

            “This is…unique.” Alfred stands in awe, deciding to try out the climbable section to his left. Arthur goes on the right side and they both peek over the lip. “Dude, there’s a bed up here. How?”

            The Briton chuckles as he gazes over at Alfred. “It’s how this room was made. For two people or even three.” He points over the edge at the other bed on the floor. “That is the master bed, I assumed used by the parents. This smaller bed must have been reserved for the children when they had nightmares. I admit, the way this room was built amazes me. It’s very comfortable, too.”

            “I can sense that.” Alfred smiles genuinely for once. “I definitely call dibs on this high bed.” The younger man heaves himself up and over the edge, landing as softly as he can on the bed.

            Arthur smiles, climbing back down the wall so he can walk through the doorway closest to him. Under the high bed is a desk, messy but well organized. He sets the notebook down there and turns the lamp on. “Do you mind me working on the last bit of my homework?”

            “I don’t care.”

            “Are you hungry?”

            “Do you have left overs of your take-outs?”

            “Some Chinese meals, KFC, and I do have the makings for tacos.”

            Alfred sits up and rolls to his side so he can see Arthur over the bed. He notices a ladder on this side for anyone to climb as well and decides to come down. “I’ll make the tacos. You don’t touch anything classified as food.” He goes through the other doorway made in the wall and exits the room.

            The ashen blond has a mind to tell Alfred that he should rest, but once Alfred gets it in his mind to do something, he won’t stop. So Arthur sighs and sits down at his desk, opening his notebook up so he can work on what the professors asked the class to go over.

            Dinner goes by fast since the meal is small enough for both of them. It doesn’t take them too long to get back into the bedroom, Alfred on the high bed and Arthur at the desk. The wheat-blond took some pain meds with his food so he knows they should kick in after a while. He relaxes against the bed he rests on, sighing in relief as the mattress is comparable to a cloud. He usually likes firmer beds but tonight a cloud is good for his sore muscles.

            Some time passes and Alfred is still awake. He listens to the scratching of graphite below him, the glow of the lamp light dim against his eyelids. He opens his eyes, thoughts flying in his mind as he wonders several things about his longtime friend below him. Coming to a decision, he rises slightly and rolls off the side of the bed, landing expertly down behind Arthur even though he’s not a hundred percent. He winces a bit as some pain shoots up his left side but ignores it as he focuses on Arthur.

            The Brit jumps, turning a little with wide eyes. “Is something wrong, Alfred?” He was enjoying the company they were sharing with each other. They don’t even need to do anything together, just be in the same room without complaints and he’s happy. So he stares at Alfred with questions as the American stands there for a good minute before forcing Arthur to fully turn around. “Alfred, what are you-?” He begins asking only to have his lips covered by another pair. His eyes widen and he pushes the other away. “What the bloody hell was that?!”

            “Isn’t that what you want?” Alfred leans forward, hands on either side of Arthur as they rest on the arms of his chair. “Didn’t you say that you loved me romantically?”

            Arthur’s face blooms red as he makes as much distance between them as he can. “W-Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean you just kiss me out of nowhere! There’s courtesy and consideration to take into hand! Don’t just dive head first, you idiot.”

            “So you don’t want this?” Alfred’s eyes dull slightly, the shine of the lamp giving him a hollow look.

            “I-I do, it’s just…” Arthur trails off with a huff, crossing his arms as if they will defend him from further advances. “I’d rather work from the beginning. Not just hopping right into being sexual with you. And I want it to be mutual. Not you forcing yourself to reciprocate my feelings just to please me.”

            “What if I told you that I feel the same way?” Alfred grins a little, raising one of his hands up so he can caress Arthur’s cheek. He revels in the tremble he sees in his companion’s frame. “That I want to do sexual things with you?”

            He leans closer, their lips nearly colliding again, but Arthur turns his head. “How can I believe that when just last month you pushed me away?” Arthur inhales, trying to control his emotions that are running wild. “You said I was revolting and to stay away. I’ve kept my distance as best I can. You’re the one who’s been allowing me to stay so close even after that.”

            “Isn’t that proof enough?” Alfred backs away, a sincere frown on his lips. “I know I was an ass-hole about this but I haven’t kept you away. You stayed there for me even after all the harsh things I said. That told me you truly cared for me. That I actually have someone who loves me.”

            “You have plenty of fan-girls who drool over you.”

            “So? None of them know me like you do.”

            “Do you actually believe these words will sway me, Alfred?”

            The American smiles hopefully up at Arthur as he sits back on his heels. “I can only hope they are. I mean… I’m will to try being with you, Arthur. Not as some sick joke. Not to toy with your feelings, but to actually try it out. If it doesn’t work, we can just be friends again. Can’t we?”

            Arthur examines Alfred’s visage, scanning for any hint of this being a farce. He sees nothing but sincerity. He thinks everything over, sighing as he leans forward so their foreheads press against each other. “Things might be different if we don’t work out.”

            “As long as we truly care about being in each other’s lives, I feel that we can always work it out so we’re on good terms.” Alfred takes both Arthur’s hands, forcefully uncrossing the Brit’s arms. “I’m sorry I was such a jack ass, Arthur. I really am.” He locks eyes with Arthur, smiling like that child he’s always known to be. “I’m serious about this. I was just so confused before but I’m serious about try it out. So…will you have me?”

            The Briton stares back, unable to glance away. He closes his eyes, exhaling through his nose. “I’m such a sucker for sap.”

            Taking that as a confirmation, Alfred smiles bright and pecks Arthur’s lips. “Have you finished your work?”

            “I’ve just one more thing then I’ll retire.”

            “Okay.” Alfred pulls away and goes to the bed on the floor, flopping down on the left side. He flinches a little but smiles through the pain. “Dibs.”

            Arthur smiles sweetly at the silly man. “High bed is mine then?” He turns around so he can finish his last assignment.

            “Nope. You’re sleeping next to me.” Alfred watches as Arthur tenses up, peering over his shoulder with uncertainty. That makes the American bashfully gaze away, scratching his cheek. “If you want to share, that is.”

            Not in a million years did Arthur think this would happen to him. He quickly finishes his last problem and shuts the lamp off. He changes from his day clothes into pajamas, sliding in beside Alfred. The wheat-blond chuckles, keeping his arms to himself though he wishes to snuggle with Arthur. With him being careful, Arthur is sure that Alfred isn’t joking with him. He smiles, hunkering down for the night.

            “Good night, Alfred.”

            “Good night, Artie.”

            Arthur lightly whacks him for the nickname he despises. Alfred merely laughs quietly. One final thought passes through each of their minds before they fully succumb to sleep. They each hope that whatever they try out will work. Neither of them can see a life without the other. Even if the romance bit doesn’t work, they truly pray for their friendship to stay intact. No one knows what will happen, though, as the future is always a mystery.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not beta-ed so there might be mistakes.


End file.
